Chapter 271

The morning sun cast golden streaks across the lavish bedroom as Lillian stirred beneath silk sheets. Her fingers brushed against the empty space beside her—Sebastian had already left for his early meeting. A faint trace of his sandalwood scent lingered on the pillow, making her lips curve unconsciously.

She stretched, her muscles pleasantly sore from last night's passionate encounter. The memory sent a flush creeping up her neck. Three months into their marriage, and the man still left her breathless.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called, pulling the duvet higher.

The door creaked open, revealing Giselle, the head maid, balancing a silver tray. "Good morning, Luna. I brought your breakfast—fresh berries, avocado toast, and that lavender honey tea you adore."

Lillian sat up, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. "Thank you, but you didn’t have to—"

"Nonsense." Giselle set the tray across her lap with practiced ease. "Alpha Blackwood’s orders. He said you barely ate dinner last night."

Heat flooded Lillian’s cheeks. They’d been... preoccupied.

Giselle smirked knowingly before straightening. "Oh, and this arrived for you." She produced a velvet box from her apron pocket.

Lillian’s pulse jumped. Another gift? Sebastian had been showering her with jewels lately—emerald earrings after the pack ball, a diamond bracelet following their lakeside picnic. She lifted the lid, gasping at the pendant nestled inside: a crescent moon carved from moonstone, threaded on a delicate platinum chain.

Just like the one from his mother’s portrait.

Her throat tightened. This wasn’t just jewelry—it was an heirloom. A symbol of acceptance.

"Tell him—" She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Tell him I’ll wear it tonight at the gala."

Giselle nodded, but her smile faltered. "There’s... one more thing. A messenger came from the Winslow estate." She handed over a cream-colored envelope sealed with crimson wax.

Lillian’s stomach dropped. The Winslow crest. Eleanor.

She broke the seal with trembling fingers, scanning the elegant script:

"Dearest Sister-in-law,

I’d be delighted if you joined me for tea this afternoon. There’s a matter concerning Donovan that requires your attention."

The paper crumpled in her grip. After everything—the betrayal, the public humiliation—how dare she?

Giselle cleared her throat. "Shall I inform Alpha Blackwood?"

Lillian exhaled sharply. "No." She wouldn’t drag Sebastian into this mess. Not when tensions with the Winslow pack were already volatile. "But have Marcus prepare the car. I’ll leave at two."

As the maid retreated, Lillian stared at the pendant’s ethereal glow. Tonight, she’d stand beside Sebastian as his equal. But first, she had a snake to face.

And this time, she wouldn’t come unarmed.

Lillian's POV

I probably shouldn’t have been drinking this much. But the nerves were eating at me, and the atmosphere at this dinner was suffocating. The room was dominated by towering, muscular competitors—mostly men, with only a handful of women. I was petite in comparison, though I knew my strength was nothing to scoff at. Still, doubt gnawed at me. Would I really stand a chance?

The buffet was extravagant, overflowing with dishes that made my stomach growl. I piled my plate high, trying to distract myself. Then I spotted him—a hulking competitor flexing his biceps while boasting loudly. Beside him stood Rosalind, cheeks flushed as she listened. When she noticed me, her face brightened, but she only offered a quick, discreet wave before turning away.

Ah. That must be her boyfriend. She probably didn’t want him knowing she was friendly with the competition.

At the head of the hall sat a long table with four chairs—two occupied by Lycan Chairmen. Their presence alone was overwhelming. Power rolled off them in waves, their expressions unreadable, their auras almost blinding. I’d heard Alpha Maximilian wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow, which explained one empty seat. But the other…

Was Sebastian coming?

Gavin—no, Sebastian—hadn’t mentioned attending. My stomach twisted at the thought. I scanned the room but found no sign of him.

Speeches and toasts followed, delivered by Alphas and one of the Chairmen. Excitement buzzed through the crowd, though the competition wouldn’t start for a few more days. Tomorrow, they planned group training in the courtyard. Maybe I should join—if I could drag myself out of bed.

For now, I retreated to the bar, drowning my nerves in alcohol until my cheeks burned and the room spun. Definitely too much. I needed to leave before I embarrassed myself.

I staggered toward the exit, praying no one noticed my unsteady steps. The hallway blurred as I fumbled for the elevator. Then—damn it. My key was still in the room.

Beatrice was probably still out with her new friends. I wasn’t about to interrupt her night. Instead, I stumbled to the front desk, grateful the lobby was empty. The night staff were strangers, their expressions politely neutral as I slurred, "I, uh… locked myself out. Room 909, I think?"

The clerk nodded, typing swiftly before handing me a new key card.

Just get to bed, Lillian. Before you do something really stupid.

Lillian's POV

"There you go," Sebastian murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I managed a small smile, clutching the keycard he'd handed me. "Thank you."

The elevator ride up felt longer than usual, my head swimming with the effects of the alcohol. The moment I stepped into the suite, exhaustion crashed over me like a tidal wave.

All I wanted was to collapse into bed. Changing into pajamas? Too much effort. Instead, I kicked off my shoes, letting my dress pool around my ankles as I stumbled toward the bed. Beatrice still wasn’t back—thank the Moon Goddess. The last thing I needed was her seeing me like this, half-drunk and completely disheveled.

The room smelled different—cleaner, fresher. Had Beatrice sprayed perfume before she left? Or maybe the resort staff had come in to tidy up. Either way, the scent was soothing, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

I left a trail of discarded clothes behind me, not caring where they landed. The distance to the bed seemed to stretch impossibly far, but I chalked it up to the alcohol messing with my perception.

Finally, I tumbled beneath the covers, naked and boneless. The sheets were cool against my flushed skin. With a sigh, I let my heavy eyelids fall shut, surrendering to sleep.

Sebastian's POV

The scalding water did nothing to clear my head.

Rare for a Lycan to get this drunk, but I’d spiked my drink with something potent enough to knock out an entire pack. Right now, I needed the numbness—needed to silence the storm in my mind.

The competitors’ dinner was in full swing downstairs. As the Lycan chairman, I should’ve been there, making appearances, exchanging pleasantlies. But tonight? Impossible.

Let them talk.

I’d attend tomorrow’s event. Tonight, I just needed to be alone. To forget.

The steam curled around me, thick and suffocating. I braced my hands against the tiled wall, head bowed.

Just a few hours of oblivion.

That’s all I asked for.